the way raindrops fall to the floor
reminds me of her words.
and her laugh's the melody
of someone you want to hold.
and in a cold night,
she's that fire
that keeps you alive.
she's the stars shining away
and she doesn't know somewhere
a person (who doesn't know a shit about poetry)
loves her.
annotation:
she's a ballpen
almost without ink:
when you can write your last words
before you get irremediably broke.
